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- Current Mood: curious
I've been trying to find time to make love to Karen for much of the past week, and keep hitting road block after road block. (I know, what's new about that. Absolutely nothing. Status quo in this "relationship.") Finally thought I had seen hope for an opportunity to spend some quality intimate time with Karen this evening, and come home only to learn that Aunt Flo beat me to the punch. So sad. Seems that is my fate in life. Always so alone, and sad.
- Current Mood: sad
- Wed, 02:36: Wish I could take a hot shower. Just slathered 1/4 of my body with Benadryl Anti itch cream. Praying that I can finally get some sleep.
- Wed, 04:26: Some nights just suck. Finally stopped itching (for now) maybe I can squeeze in 2 hours of a nap before it's time t… https://t.co/e2J24sdTxg
51 months have passed, since Karen proposed the deal of her being my Barberette for the three Summer months of 2012.
It has now been 21 days since I told Karen that I think she needs to quit smoking; so the window for her to be able to be my Barberette is possibly coming to a close sometime very soon.
Although, it seems that she has been smoking even more ever since I mentioned I thought she should quit. Just like everything else, she is bent and determined to do the exact opposite of anything I say to her. Give it a few more months, and the best way to get her to go back to blonde would be to tell her that I don't want her to ever bleach it out again. I might even get her to bob it, if I happen to mention that I now hate bobbed hair. I dont, really, but if I said it to her, I'm sure she'd be sporting a bob cut within the next month after I said I did. (Although, now that her beautiful long hair is red again, I REALLY do not want to see her cut it. I was excited about the idea of seeing her in a blonde bob, and even possibly going to the salon for a short, platinum, spikey, crop cut [or as Karen puts it, duck butt]. But not now. I want to see her darker hair grow all the way down to her butt.
I feel like I have been hinting, asking, and outright begging for her to be my Smokin' Hot Barberette, and shave my head again for 4 long years now. Which is probably exactly why she hasn't. That, and the simple fact that it would mean she would have to commit to having a regular, normal sex life with me once she has done the deed.
There are two main conditions required before I will consider cutting my hair:
1) Barberettes smoke. Smoke while cutting my hair and/or shaving my head, and smoke as part of sexual foreplay.
2) My barberette has to be willing to have sex with me on a regular basis; at least once a week, unless aunt flo is in town. If aunt flo is here, we find a suitable alternative intimate activity.
The original "promise" was to plan a special day, and date night, where she would dress up and give me a series of erotic haircuts; each one shorter and shorter, until I'm shaved completely bald.
Then, for the following three months, she would keep me bald and be my smoking barberette; razor shaving my head twice a week, and having sex at least once a week, for the duration of that three months.
I was hoping, that by telling her I thought she needed to start thinking about quitting smoking, early this month... That it would give her time to start thinking about when she might want to be my Barberette, and start the three months of shavings. Afterwards, we can get her a new vape, and get her back off of the cigarettes.
Like I said, that was my thinking. I have reached a point where I have absolutely no clue as to what she is thinking. Some days, Im not sure of anything at all anymore.
Like Area 51, it's a mystery.
- Sun, 06:39: FML, what a night. I just want to stretch out & get some real sleep. Right now, I'll settle for not throwing up, &… https://t.co/yWu4sMWzGQ
- Mon, 00:00: It's a cool 78F outside, & a gentle sprinkle of rain is falling. A steady Northern breeze is blowing in the trees. Fall has just arrived.
- Sun, 10:44: Finally had an empty house w/o kids. Me: Thinking we might actually have an intimate moment (10-15 min?). Her: Wanna go to Wal-Mart, and...?
- Sun, 22:01: The BEST feelings in the whole world are the ones shared with you! ❤❤❤❤❤ https://t.co/vvIoTVFmVX
The entire world could be crashing all around me, but an intimate moment spent with the love of my life makes everything all right again. I just wish those moments came along a little more frequently. Maybe life wouldn't seem to suck quite so much.
- Wed, 00:34: Treated myself to some tasty mint choc chip ice cream earlier. Yummy. But not a smart choice for someone fighting bronchitis like symptoms.😞
- Wed, 00:43: Yummy ice cream + pre-existing congested cough + known milk allergy = No Sleep; because this idiot can't breath, or stop coughing. SMH 😕😢
- Wed, 03:19: 😶
- Wed, 08:10: Have I told you how your voice is my favorite sound, your name is my favorite word, and your hugs & kisses are my favorite part of the day?
At first, I thought it was just a symptom of not being able to breathe deeply enough while sleeping at night, and then not being able to fully clear my lungs during the day. The pain in my ribs (I'm still convinced that I cracked them on the 4th) was just too much to let me take the kind of deep breaths I needed to fully expand my lungs. My right side still feels bruised and tender, but the sharp pains have ceased, and I don't get the stabbing feeling when I try to sit up or lift anything over 10 pounds.
But what ever cold it is that settled into my lungs during those two weeks just won't let go. This past weekend was brutal. I pretty much slept the entire weekend away. Wake up, take meds, drink a little tea or juice, lay back down, and sleep. Repeat. I know that I was running a slight fever on Saturday, but I don't feel feverish now.
Once I cough up most of the thick green snot that builds up while I'm sleeping, I start to feel a little better. As of right now, I have absolutely no nasal congestion with this cold, although I get a bit of a runny nose when I have a coughing fit. But my eyes water then as well, too. Most of my coughing throughout the day is from a constant feeling of a tickle in my throat, from all of the irritation caused in the morning. Occasionally, a gob of junk wants to come up.
This afternoon, I spent most of the time sucking on some Halls honey and lemon cough drops. I went nearly 4 hours without a single coughing fit.
When I sat down to take a nap this evening, after dinner, I could hear my faint wheezing. The junk is still in there; and as I slept, it built back up thicker. Now, I'm coughing up green goo again. I need to find some cough drops, and go take some meds before laying back down for the rest of the night.
If this doesn't start clearing up in the next couple of days, I'm going to have to make a visit to the clinic. Watch it be my luck that I've got a case of bronchitis, or the beginning stages of pneumonia.
I can't afford to get sick enough that it causes me to miss work. I was fortunate that my bout of exhaustion hit the hardest on Friday and Saturday. I was able to rest and re-energize for this week. I definitely cannot afford to get either of the kids sick.
- Current Mood: sick
Ha! I got there first, this month. So take that, Aunt Flo.
- Current Mood: enthralled
- Fri, 22:53: At KJM's 25 yr HS Reunion. Been 5 yrs since I cut my hair short. I've had 5 separate ppl tell me they are glad I grew my hair back long. LOL
Ladies go cray-cray over my long hair, and I get compliments and attention all of the time because of it.Sadly, I get more flirts from ladies at work, and out in public, because of my hair, than I get at home from the lady I most want attention from.
And, the most ironic thing about it all, is that the thing I desire and fantasize about most, is to get special attention from my wife as she cuts and shaves it all off.
I'd love nothing more than to have Karen tease and flirt with me; and I know how much she loves short hair on a guy. I would like to be on the receiving end of that appreciation.
The sexiest, most romantic and intimate, situation I can dream of would be to have Karen plan a special date night where the end of the evening culminated in her playing the part of my Barberette and then making passionate love to me after she has cut all of my hair off.
Put on some leather or vinyl, light up a long sexy cigarette, and then take the scissors to my hair. Send these long locks falling to the floor around me. Then blow a long, white stream of smoke into my face as she plunges the clippers into the hair at my forehead and repeatedly runs the hungry blades from front to back until my head is left with nothing but soft fuzz. After lighting up another long white cigarette, she would follow up with the beard trimmers and reduce the half inch fuzz to nothing but stubble. Then it's time for the shaving cream and MACH 3 razor. My barberette will keep smoking and shaving until every last hair is gone, and my head is completely bald.
- Current Mood: horny
My ribs, along the right side, are still very tender and sore. As a result, my movement is very slow and deliberate. I feel like a sloth stuck in slow motion.
My neck is stiff and sore this morning.
My left SI Joint is flaring up, and it makes walking a tedious and painful task. As usual, it is affecting most of my left leg, and makes my lower back throb across the hip/pelvic bone above my buttox (gluteus medius).
I've got a splitting headache on the right side of my head; extending from my sinus cavity, the upper portion of my face and orbital socket, and reaching up and over my head to just behind my ear.
But I think that is a secondary reaction to the worst pain I am feeling today.
Normally, I feel no pain or discomfort from the broken wisdom tooth on the upper right side of my mouth. But today, it is very sensitive and tender.
A couple of days ago, I finally managed to remove a couple of pieces of popcorn hull from around this same tooth, and a molar below it on the same side. It took me nearly a week to get both of the hulls out, and my teeth and gums on that side of my face are super sore and sensitive as a result.
I know that I am eventually going to have to break down, ang go have my teeth fixed. If the pain and tenderness in this wisdom tooth doesn't go away in the next 24 to 48 hours, that will be much sooner than later. Regardless, it is becoming more and more apparent that my teeth issurs are affecting my overall health and quality of life. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that they are a triggering factor behind my headaches and elevated blood pressure.
I currently have 4 broken/cracked teeth. (listen in order of occurence)
I am just so tired, and exhausted, from dealing with the constant pain throughout my body.
I know that taking steps and actions to improve my health and fitness (like exercise and weight loss) would greatly reduce many of my pains; but the same exercise I need to do to get there, currently makes the pain levels more frequent and greater in intensity.
Even increasong my walking, while beneficial, hurts so very much when I do it in increments large enough to really do any good.
And I know the dental work I need is going to hurt. Not to mention be much more expensive than I can stand to afford. Both of those have been driving factors nehind why I have put it off for so long. Not to mention my very real, and intense, phobia of dentists and needles.
Right now, I'm just praying today's pains will subside. I've taken 800 mg of ibuprofen, and 162 mg of aspirin. I would take more, but I don't eant to risk damage to my internal organs.God only knows what the daily pain killer usage is doing to the rest of my body.
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- Mon, 11:07: The Fall TV season will be here in just the next few weeks. My DVR is 55% full. I'm trying to watch, and clear, as much as I possibly can.
- Tue, 03:11: OUCH! 😩 Just woke up with painful muscle spasms & cramps in my rib cage & back. I'm trying to go back to sleep, but I just want to cry. 😭
Karen has said, on more than several occasions, that she is tired of smoking, and that she wants to quit again; but that I am one of the main reasons that she continues to smoke. She is implying that she smokes for me, more than for any other reasons that she has on her own.
I'll admit that I find it very sexually stimulating to watch Karen smoke. It really is a major turn on for me. Especially as a part of foreplay, etc... But those moments seem to be farther and fewer in between instances these days.
- Story Time: Karen rarely invites me out on her smoke breaks. Maybe once or twice a week at the most, if I'm lucky. So that's not really smoking because of me. That's smoking because she wants to smoke.
- Intimacy (aka sex): In order to have foreplay, you have to have something else that comes after it. Since we only have sex an average of once every 60 to 90 days, she can't say she's smoking because of sex.
- Barberette Fantasy: Karen has mentioned that she keeps smoking so that she can fulfill my Barberette fantasy, for when she cuts my hair. Well, I've been asking her to make that happen for over 4 years now; and my current hair length is testament to that not happening. There are dozens upon dozens of entries in this journal, detailing when, why, how, and oh so much more about me wanting her to be my "Smokin' Hot Barberette." (You don"t even have to read every journal entry to find them. Just click on the Barberette tag, and start reading. But she has ignored my requests, pleas, and begging. She refuses to so much as check in and read my journal even just now and then.)
She will say that she hasn't cut my hair for me because I always say I'm not ready. The only reason I have said I"m not ready, is because the Barberette fantasy is the ultimate form of foreplay; and as I mentioned above, you can't have foreplay when there's no "play" to come after it. You can't expect me ro expose the most erotic, sensitive, and vulnerable aspect of my sexual psyche to you, when you ignore every single other facet of our intimate lives together. It doesn't work that way.
I'm not going to have her cut all of my hair off, just for the sake of cutting it off. Shaving my head is not a "bucket list" item for me. Aside from the erotic factor in the simple act of shaving... Giving my hair to her is truly a two way gift of love; and is a symbolism of the trust, commitment, and intimacy between us.
Currently, we have trust and commitment, but there is no intimacy.
When I am convinced of Karen's commitment to improving the level of intimacy in our relationship, she can do ANYTHING* she wants with my hair. I would gladly give it to her in a heartbeat. (*Cut it, bob it, buzz it, or shave it. She could even bleach or color it, or give me Brad Pitt's haircut from the movie Fury. I wouldn't care, as long as I have her devoted love and an intimate relationship with my wife.)
But, I'm not some toy to play with once, break, and then throw away; and neither is my hair. I'm not some dog that you can pat on the head as you come in the door, and ignore the rest of the day, and expect that I will come at your whim. Other people pat me on the head too, but it's you I want to roll over for, and show you my belly while I bury my nose in your lap or kiss your face. But I'm left laying on the floor, patiently waiting.
So, if all of the reasons that I would have, for wanting to watch her smoke, aren't actually happening on a regular basis, who is she really smoking for?
I do enjoy getting to watch her light up and smoke when we are out and about together. It's sexy to be in the car, and watch her. It's a guilty pleasure. Especially when she blows her smoke at me, or catches me watching her, and she makes sure I want to keep watching.
But I don't find it sexy to see how much she is smoking every day as part of her habit.. She is currently smoking about a pack per day. That really worries me; and the concern for her health outweighs the turn on factor that I get from any of the above mentioned scenarios.
So, I have decided to remove ME as a factor in this equation. If she is thinking she can't quit because I don't want her to, or because I'll throw a pouting tantrum, that's all out the door. I just told her that I think she should quit.
What happens next is in her court.
Either way, I just want to make sure my Bubbie is happy and healthy. I want to spend the rest of my life with her; and even though she drives me to the brink of sanity most of the time, I'd prefer that will be for a long, long time.
Just the other day, Karen offered to trim up my neck line for me; but I have to be honest, I don't trust myself to let her near my head with clippers in her hand. You read that correctly. It's not that I don't trust her. I don't trust myself.
When you have been waiting for over 4 years for someone to take the initiative to do something, the urge to nudge them along can be pretty strong. I would probably fake a sneeze, and push my hairline into the clippers; leaving her no choice but to finish. But I know I would end up being mad at myself, because giving into an urge, in the bathroom, is not the way I want something that life changing and dramatic to end up happening. (besides, there's no smoking in the house. at least not with the kids at home.)
At around 4 PM this afternoon, I logged onto the Super Cuts reservation app on my phone, and scheduled an appointment with Denise at 5:15 PM. As soon as my shift was up at work, I clocked out and headed out the door. With it being just a trim, on a Tuesday evening, I knew I would be in and out.
Denise was waiting for me, and took me right back to her chair. We made small talk, about how our Kids' Summer's have been going, while she caped me and got out her trimming clippers. She refastened my ponytail high up on my head, and just before she took the clippers to my neck line she asked, "clean it up and a baby trim all over?" I said, that sounds good.
She took all of the undercut hair at my neck line clean off to the skin. Nothing but stubble left behind as little tumbleweeds of hair rolled off of my shoulders and down the front of my cape to my lap. Until that moment, I had no real concept of just how long all of that hair had gotten. It must have looked worse than I realized. The clippers felt so good on the back of my neck. They tickled and teased the nerves at the back of my head.
Then it was time to outline up and over my ears. She then took out a comb, and started using clippers over comb to clean up the undercut above and around my ears on the right, then left, sides of my head. Even though I had trimmed around there a few times myself, there was a lot of hair coming off from the areas that I just can't reach and see, when trimming on my own.
She finished off the sides with her scissors, before lightly wetting down my hair to comb out the length and trim the ends.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked out feeling much better. She had pulled my ponytail back nice and tight, and smoothed out my hair with some "silky smooth" hair moisturizer. The frizzies were gone, even though the humidity outside was near 90%. My sides and neck looked neat and tidy. Much, much, nicer than when I had walked into the salon.
Karen noticed my haircut, after I had been home for a bit. At first, she seemed like her feelings were a little bit hurt. I surmised that she felt that way because she had offered to trim my hair, and I had then had it done at the salon instead of letting her do it. Like I mentioned before, it's not because I didn't want her to do it. I would LOVE for Karen to trim my hair, and MUCH more. It's me that I don't trust right now.
I haven't been able to keep my hands off of the short stubble at the back of my head.
My undercut goes about an inch into my actual hairline. It's the easiest way to keep it looking nice and neat, when pulled up into a ponytail (that is, when it's trimmed up). The short stubble feels SO GOOD! I almost wish that more of my head was shaved like this, so that I could run my hands over more of the sensitive scalp beneath my hair.
Right now, there is a part of me that would give almost anything to ask Karen to shave my entire head completely bald. To have her sit me down in a chair, then light up a cigarette and blow her smoke into my face, just as she plunges the clippers into my hair at the center of my forehead. I want to feel her warm, soft, hands running across the sensitive, bare, skin left behind by the vibrating clippers. To feel her long, red, fingernails lightly scratch as they run against the growth of the stubble left behind on my head. I want to taste her smoky kisses, as she lathers my head up and shaves me smooth with a fresh MACH 3 razor.
But, alas, all of that is nothing more than a mere fantasy. A hopeless dream.
I've been begging, and pleading, and asking her to do just that exact thing for just over 4 years now. The details, and scenarios (dozens of them) spelled out right here in the pages of my journal. (If you doubt that, just click on the "barberette" tag at the bottom of this entry, and see for yourself.) But she won't read a single word of it.
So, I'll just keep my fantasies in my head. Write about my needs, wants and desires in the pages that only I care enough about to read. And I'll pull my hair into a ponytail, and wait until it's time to go get another trim.
Maybe it's better that way.
|Can I make out with you? NO|
Can I make love to you? NO
Could you tell me a story? NO (not only do you tell me no, you scream at me)
Can I touch you? NO
Could you please touch me? NO
I could have found a roommate at any time in my life. I would rather have a WIFE. A PARTNER. Someone who not only loves me, but wants and desires me in return. Every time I hear that "NO" (regardless of how it is said, or the words used to say it) another piece of me dies inside. Another hole pierces my heart. Another bad memory haunts my mind at night to fuel my insomnia. Another brick goes into the wall that I build between us, to shield me from the hurt and rejection.
I'm certain that the next time you need something from me, I'll hear your sweet voice calling... "Honey, Sweetie, Putle, or Pute Pute." And like the trained dog I've appatently become to you, I'll eagerly come running, eager to please. I'll get a hug, a kiss, and maybe a long hug or pat on the back. But if I dare let my gaze linger longingly a moment too long, or I initiate a tender touch that implies my desire for you, I'll receive some sort of reaction that will communicate the all too familiar "NO."
I love you with all my heart, and I know you love me too. Every day I reaffirm my choice to love you.
I am still glad I married you, and will be faithful to you till the day I die. I wouldn't change that fact. But I honestly could never have believed that when I heard you say "Yes," followed by "I Do," that it would eventually lead me to living a life repeatedly filled with the word "NO" every time I need and want physical intimacy with you.
Even worse. A life where a "yes" comes only after days, weeks, or months of begging; or because you feel obligated, or guilted, into it for whatever reason. Then you either "give it up" or tell me its time as you sulk towards the bedroom as you tell me "come on, let's get this over with." I hate hearing those words come out of your mouth. They hurt almost as much as hearing "no;" because it feels like I'm forcing you to do something you can't give to me on your own.
I would like for you to honestly ask yourself the following questions: When was the last time you initiated any kind of sexual contact with me? When was the last time you touched me? (Not the last time you let me touch you, or the last time you let me have sex with you. But, The last time you reached out with your hand, and intimately touched me.)
When was the last time you showed me that you wanted, or desired, me?
- Current Mood: crushed
That equates to the passing of:
But whose counting?
I still want my Blonde Bombshell Barberette!
- Current Mood: indifferent
- Current Mood: numb
- Current Mood: irritated
I suppose it is a good thing that she is here 4 days early (it's been 24 days since she last showed up at Karen's "doorstep"). Maybe this way, she will be gone by this coming weekend, and karen will be able to enjoy the pool party at Rob and Cindy's house.
Oddly enough, I had just asked Karen the other evening if she was about to start her period.
- Current Mood: disappointed
At that time in May, I had carefully chosen the three separate passphrases as part of a theme of hopeful wishes. One that, at the time, I had serious hopes would be prophetic in nature over the following three months; and would at least be showing signs of potentially coming true before it was time for the phrases to expire in late August. As you may well have guessed, that did not happen. And it makes me more than just a little bit sad.
While I will not type the exact pass phrases here (as it would give away my PW naming scheme), I will share what they ultimately spelled out.
Two years ago, the day of Rob and Cindy's pool party, Karen got her blunt cut hair trimmed up into a perfect bob. Her neck was shaved a quarter inch into her hairline, and her bob was cut to the hairline in the back. Karen would have liked the front to have had more swing bob length to it, and I think that exact look would have been super sexy with her platinum golden locks. But the thought of cutting her gorgeous, long, hair was specific only to the blonde hair experiment.
I've been waiting for 4 years (48 months, to be exact) to have Karen make good on her promise, and have spent over a year asking and pleading for Karen to be my Golden fantasy - Blonde Barberette.
I want Karen to quit smoking. I sometimes think that I'm more ready for her to quit than she is. I still find it really sexy to watch Karen smoke. It is a HUGE turn on (Watching her smoke is often the closest thing I have to any kind of sex life). But I am also concerned about her health, and that is more important than being turned on by a smoking fetish. Seriously..., we have no intimacy or sex life in our marriage; so to focus on something sexual, over something more immediately tangible, like her health, just doesn't make sense. My long hair will grow back, her health possibly wouldn't.
- Current Mood: frustrated
I just can't take it any more.....
(BTW... by "gets some," I mean "pussy.")
Old habits are apparently all too easy to fall back into.
Every time it seems that karen and I make some progress in this area, and it looks like we have a shot at a more normal intimate love life, Aunt Flo comes around and everything that was accomplished in the prior month gets thrown out in the trash like the bloody tampons she leaves behind.
Bubbie and I managed to go a few weeks, where a conscious effort was made to share intimate moments on a more regular, and normal, schedule. That came to a screaching halt once Aunt Flo showed up in our house, for her July monthly visit.
As of this evening, I havent had intimate relations with my wife since July 9th; and not due to any lack of interest, or constant asking, on my part. In fact, I ask AND get shot down so frequently, that it is truly demoralizing and depressing. It literally keeps me up at night, thinking about how often I am pushed away or shut down when I try to initiate intimate moments.
I know that my wife loves me. On a scale of 1 to 10, my wife's love for me is hands down a 10 on most days; and even an 8.5 on days when we might be arguing or fussing about something.
But "KNOWING" that you are loved is only half the factor when determing how loved a person feels.
There's another aspect of INTIMACY: Feeling wanted, needed, and desired, by your spouse... that is just as important.
For most women, this second category of Feeling Loved is a cumulative total from a great many things: help around the house, being provided for, seeing that the family is nurtured and cared for, receiving gifts or flowers, romantic gestures, being reminded they are attractive to you, and then the last 5% to 10% may be physical intimacy (i.e. sex).
For most men, and I definitely fall into this category, most of those criteria that women crave for the second aspect of feeling loved, are all items, that for a man, clearly fall in the first category of KNOWING you are loved.
For me, a HUGE part of what defines Intimacy, is being able to say that I know I am wanted and desired; without me having to ask or beg for that attention or feedback. Physical or Sexual contact can easily account for 80% of that.
In a relationship with a regular sex life, these feelings of doubt or absence don't crop up nearly as quickly after the last physical encounter.
But, when there are weeks or months in between intimate and sexual encounters, it only takes a day or two for self doubt, or security within the relationship, to rear its ugly head. Each day that goes by, without an intimate touch or caress, or some sort of bonding moment between us, breeds a touch of insecurity. The basic need isn't being met, and the foundation of the relationship feels shaky.
I often find myself asking: Did she initiate sex at any point in the past month (or ever)? Did she touch me in an intimate or sexual way? Kisses, hugs, cuddling, snuggles, and random hand to sensitive areas make up another 10%. The last 5% to 10% or so is being told I am handsome to her, stroking my ego so to speak, asking me to do things I know she could do for herself, but wants meto do for her anyway.
But back to that 80% of needing physical intimacy. If those needs aren't acknowledged or addressed in some way; it doesnt matter how much a man knows he is loved....
You can cook every meal like it is a feast, - wash every shirt, pants, underwear and sock we own, - have a spotless house top to bottom, - plan every social event (birthday, sleep over, etc...) and nurture the kids better than any other person could.... the aspect score of feeling loved can still be deflated by the fact that I don't feel wanted or desired by the one and only person I 'NEED' that assurance from.
This lack of intimacy in my relationship tears at the very core of who I am. I never had body shame issues, before my wife stopped letting me feel wanted. I never obsessed about feeling unwanted or lonely until I felt shunned and ignored intimately. I never had issues of waking in the middle of the night, and binge eating to feed my depression and doubdts of self worth. I literally carry the depression from lack of intimacy with me throughout the day; in the form of about 45 pounds of fat sitting on my gut (the worst way a man can carry excess weight). The lack of intimacy in my life is the driving cause for my high blood pressure. It is the single largest contributing factor for any feelings of depression that I experience. it is the leading cause of my insomnia and poor sleep patterns. It is a driving factor in causing the physical conditions that lead to my migraine headaches.
The lack of INTIMACY in my relationship with my wife, is literally killing me; on both a mental and physical level.
Yes, I know I AM LOVED. In that way, I am blessed. Even today, on a day when Karen and I argued, I give her a 10 out of 10 in that category....
But right now, my INTIMACY score is drained like a depleted battery. I'm barely reading a 1.5 or maybe a 2; and once you average those two aspects of FEELING LOVED together.... that doesn't end up leaving me FEELING all that loved.
Right now, I feel like Im in a race with Aunt Flo, to see who gets to FEEL loved by Karen more.... and I dont want to lose this race again this month.... Like so many other months. Every time that Aunt Flo comes around, and it has been weeks,or months, since I last was able to make love to Karen, it rips me apart formteh inside out. it is the most depressing time of the month for me; especially in light of the fact that I sense her hormone changes adn am usually in a heightened sense of arrousal every time that I am in the same room as my wife.
I dont want to have to race, battle, fight, or feel envious of Aunt Flo at all. I would rather be able say, "Aunt Flo is here? No big deal, we can pick up our normal routine as soon as she is gone. In the mean time, let me focus on other areas of our intimate love life." We could cuddle more. Go to bed at the same time. watch a show while cuddled up onthe couch together.
All things that I feel too resentful to do most of the time, because I'm feeling too hurt, emotionally, to want to even be in the same room as the person I really most want to be with at all times. I don't even feel like I can go sleep in our bed at night, because I don't feel I belong there.
- Current Mood: distressed
He gets to have a Blonde, Bobbed, Barberette shave his head bald
Was viewing my daily subscription updates on Youtube, and this video popped up in a list of recently trending videos, as a charity event, titled John's Shave. Of course it caught my eye, and I had to click on it.
His friend, Beth, had been urging him to cut his hair since around March. So when he mentioned that he was going to cut it for charity, she claimed dibs on being the one to shave him bald.
John is shaving his head in a UK event that is similar to St. Baldrick's.
I'm definitely jealous. My long hair suits me much better than his did him (mine truly does look better long), and I am in no way comparing this woman to my wife, as my wife is much hotter in my eyes.... But, this scenario, of a curvy, BLONDE, barberette, with cute bobbed hair, having fun while cutting and shaving her friend's long hair off to bald,... it is exactly the scenario that I had been wanting and hoping that Karen would be sharing with me this Fall.
I was looking back through my journal entries, and was amazed at exactly how many times I mentioned that same scenario over and over again; going all the way back to when she first went blonde.
Within the past 4 years (since April 21st, 2012), the journal tag "barberette" (meaning that some portion of the entry specifically talks about me wanting Karen to cut or shave my hair) has been used more than 80 times. That averages out to about one reference every 2 1/2 weeks. Additionally, the journal tag "blonde" has been used in conjunction with barberette at least 49 times.
That tells me that the frequency at which I have been asking and pleading with Karen to shave my head has increased in recent months/years, and has specifically fixated on her being a BLONDE haired barberette at the time that my long hair hits the floor.
With that realization in mind, I'm not exactly certain where that leaves me at this time. I'm not sure about how I feel about moving forward on recent thoughts about cutting my hair or not cutting my hair.
Karen's hair is not currently blonde. It's red. I was excited about the possibility of seeing her blonde hair get bobbed off, and maybe later even cropped really short. But with the red hair, I pray she lets it get as long as it can possibly grow. Opposite color schemes, and opposite fantasies.
Regardless of any of that, I have to decide what I am going to do with MY hair. It's time for Karen to try to quit smoking again; and right now, I'm the missing puzzle piece that is keeping her from making that decision for herself.
This would have all been SO MUCH EASIER if she could have waited just two more months before making me color her blonde hair red. It would for sure have been much easier if my wife would take a personal interest in me, and take the time to read my journal entries from time to time.
So, what's next? I don't know.
If you would have asked me on June 19th, I would have told you my detailed plan to have Karen shave my head, begin the gradual transition from blonde to red/red-brown, and quit smoking all at the same time.
Now, I'm all mixed up again. All f'd up and confused. Right now, I'm not sure of anything other than that I know Karen can't keep putting her health at risk.
It might be another year, or two, or three, before she has any itch of a desire to try blonde hair again. Theoretically, I can wait it out. My hair is on my head and basically just has to not fall out for that scenario. But we can't afford to gamble with Karen's health for that long. That part of the equation (the smoking barberette) needs a more immediate resolution, or I have to just let the fantasy go all together once and for all.
Maybe I just wasn't obvious enough, about how much I wanted her to be my Blonde Bombshell Barberette? (Here are just a few examples, from the past year)
- Current Mood: jealous
But the day of this specific pool party, two years ago, was an exceptionally memorable one for me.
Earlier that day, Karen had gone to see our friend Kris (manager at a local salon), to have her blunt cut hair (that I had cut in May) shaped up and properly cut into a more refined style. She came home with the beautifully bobbed haircut, pictured below, and absolutely blew my mind away. I was, and am to this very day, enamored and in love with that style on her.
The only thing that I didn't like about that bob cut, that she received that day, was the fact that I didn't get to go with her to see it cut. Otherwise, it was, and still is, quite literally one of my all time two favorite "short" haircuts on Karen.
And, up until just 49 days ago, this was a haircut that I had hoped and prayed (and wrote about extensively in prior journal entries) to soon see on Karen again; the only difference being that it would have been a super sexy blonde version of that same bob. A blonde bob, that I had hoped to gaze upon, as my Bubbie took the clippers to my own hair later this Fall.
I still fantasize about that bob cut. Such a hot look on her!
So damn SEXY & HOT! As gorgeous from behind as she is from the front. So in LOVE w/ this woman. Lucky she's mine. <3 pic.twitter.com/fQGrN88DlF— UrsaSolus (@ursasolus) August 9, 2014
- Current Mood: horny